The fallen angels have little choice: either you serve the inquisitors in the struggle for a just cause, or you go to fodder for evil spirits. Penny had chosen the second option, and now she regretted it very much. Or did she not regret it? It was difficult to think.
She was sitting on a spread sleeping bag, clothes, field uniforms, lay in a neat pile next to her. Somewhere in the corner of a spacious tent an LED lamp was burning. The High Inquisitor stood across from him, still wearing his jacket, his ammunition-laden vest over it, his thick trousers, and his tightly laced high army boots.
"Take your hands off," the High Inquisitor's voice sounded soft, like that of a man accustomed to his commands being followed, even if they were uttered barely audibly.
It was only at that moment that Penny realized that she was sitting there with her hands covered. As if, if she does not see what is happening, he does not exist.
She obeyed and immediately closed her eyes. It was a shame to be so openly naked. She desperately wanted to get dressed, to be somewhere else, and also to have the High Inquisitor touch her. Foolishly. All this is stupid, and she is also a stupid, worthless fallen angel - a herald of death, a burden, a receptacle of sin. They say correctly in the squad.
"Open your eyes." I want you to look at me.
Penny listened with difficulty, and her breath immediately failed. Because the High Inquisitor, who had once saved her, who had taken her like a stray puppy, was too close. Because the irises of his eyes were bright blue, and his forehead was high and clean, because his dark hair was disheveled and clearly needed a haircut. Because Penny was really stupid, very stupid.
Her lower abdomen suddenly became very hot, and Penny exhaled and turned away. Her body... took on a life of its own, as if it were possessed by demons. She had always felt it when she looked at the High Inquisitor, but now she was quite frightened.
The High Inquisitor must have seen it, he had always seen it.
She breathed heavily, staring at the floor.
There was a rustle of fabric, then Penny felt the High Inquisitor sit on the sleeping bag next to her. His breath touched his cheek, a broad hand stroked his head soothingly, tousled Penny's long dark hair in a ponytail.
"You know why you're here, don't you?"
Penny choked at the warm, wet whisper on her cheek, neck, and earlobe. She nodded hurriedly.
"Clever girl," the High Inquisitor said, almost affectionately, tenderly, like a snake's tongue touching the air. "If you listen to me, I won't hurt you." No one will know about your sins. I'll keep your secret.
A heavy palm in stiff fingerless gloves lay on her breasts, stroked the nipple, squeezed, and then it was replaced by hot lips and a soft tongue.
Penny screamed in surprise, looked up, and met a heavy, darkened gaze.
"I want you to look at me, angel. And I remembered who you were with. Tell me what you understand.
Penny nodded, and then, when the High Inquisitor frowned, she said.
"Y-yes.
"Good. The High Inquisitor brought his face closer to Penny's, glanced at her lips. For a moment, Penny thought the High Inquisitor would kiss her, but he only put his hand on Penny's neck and squeezed lightly, shutting off the air, and then stroked the same spot. "I'll decide whether you breathe or not," his gesture said.
"Mine at last," the High Inquisitor muttered. He ran his palm down Penny's body, along his chest and stomach, stopped, covering the triangle between his legs with his fingers. There was a steady warmth from his hand, and Penny sobbed and fidgeted. From the inside she was twisted by some incomprehensible spasm, it became very hot, almost painful, and the amount of moisture between her legs seemed to have increased. The High Inquisitor must see it, feel it. What a shame. "Now you are mine, angel. Mine and only mine.
A shiver ran through her body, and Penny flinched as the High Inquisitor's palm slid down confidently and stroked her, her fingertips penetrating her inside.
The High Inquisitor grunted and nudged his fingers a little deeper, so that Penny could feel the sharp edge of the leather glove cut off at the level of the second phalanx. It hurts. Ok. Ashamed. It is frightful. I wanted more.
The High Inquisitor is Penny's obsession and her most cherished desire. Her sin.
Ethan.
***
A few hours earlier
"Line up," the High Inquisitor barked, and more comfortably grabbed his "flash" - a flamethrower, without which he did not go on a single mission. "We enter from four sides, group A behind me, the rest act as usual. Angel. The High Inquisitor turned to Penny. "You're bait.
"Yes, sir," Penny swallowed.